


Why I Didn't Wish You A Happy Birthday

by stelleshine



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Drinking, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Night Stand, Real Life, Underage Drinking (technically), confused feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleshine/pseuds/stelleshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke panics once he realizes he missed the window of opportunity to wish Michael a happy birthday on Twitter. But the reason why he didn't is a lot more complicated than anyone realizes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why I Didn't Wish You A Happy Birthday

Luke knows it’s bad.

He knows when he wakes up alone, the sheets tangled around his long legs, and an obvious pain in his ass.

The foreboding feeling doesn’t let up as he lifts his head off the pillow – even though it _kills_ to do so – to look around the empty room – that is _not_ his – before letting out a soft, pained groan.

He lay there until the pounding in his head backed off just a little, and had to push through the need to throw up as he slowly sat up, his limbs heavy as if he was being dragged underwater by an invisible anchor.

Once he was up it was a little better, but having to sort through the clothing on the floor to find his underwear – seriously, this has to be a joke, right – and pulled them on gingerly, his stomach protesting when he tried to pull on his pants.

It’s what led him to the bathroom and being hugged around the toilet for twenty minutes, rueing the day he _ever_ thought drinking tequila would be a good idea.

It’s where Ashton found him, leaning all chipper up against the doorframe with a concerned-but-smug look on his face.

“Morning!”

“No,” Luke rasped out softly, putting his face down on the toilet seat. “Loud, too loud.”

Ashton let out a chuckle. “I told you, Lukey. You don’t mix tequila with baileys.”

So _that’s_ what he did? No wonder his vomit tasted slightly milky and burned his throat on the way up.

“You seen the birthday boy?”

Luke grunted. “All I’ve seen for the last half hour is my puke,” he muttered pathetically.

Ashton laughed. “Did you do anything stupid last night? Do I need to do damage control with anyone?”

Luke’s stomach rolled for a completely different reason, and he let out a soft groan. “No,” he lied, his brows pulled together as he tried to avoid throwing up _again_ , because at some point, he had to run out, right?

“Oh Lukey,” Ashton sighed, amusement laced into his words. “I’m feeling oddly sensitive to your plight, so if you can drag yourself up off the floor and put on some pants, I’ll make you some eggs.”

Luke cracked his eyes open a fraction, letting his bottom lip jut out. “Yeah?”

Ashton smiled. “Yeah,” he confirmed, with the nod of his head. “Then I can put you back to bed for a few before we need to go do AMA stuff.”

Luke groaned _again_ , wondering whose brilliant idea it had been to have Michael’s birthday party the day before the media onslaught for the American Music Awards.

He bet it was Calum.

Calum _never_ gets hungover.

“Ten minutes and I’m coming back up here,” Ashton warned. “And you won’t get any eggs.”

Luke let out a soft, pitiful whimper.

“And wash your face,” Ashton advised. “You do realize your current pillow is a fucking _toilet seat_ , right?”

Luke _did_ know, and normally, that would be mortifying. He knew that out of himself and his three best friends, toilet cleanliness wasn’t a high priority, but the surface was cool against Luke’s heated cheeks, and despite the scent of his puke and some pungent toilet bleach, it was the first time since he’d woken up that he was _comfortable_.

Thinking of waking up dragged him back to feeling _bad_. Because what he’d done the night before _was_ bad _,_ and there was no way he was getting out of it without severe mocking, or a tense conversation.

The notion of his mortifying future had him groaning and deciding to spend the next ten minutes feeling sorry for himself.

**

“Good?”

Luke raised his head slowly to look across the dining table at Ashton, who was sipping coffee from a black ceramic mug, some of his earlier smugness replaced with sympathy.

Luke nodded his head gently, digging his fork into his scrambled eggs and had to convince his stomach to _accept_ the food, not threaten to send it all back up again.

He hated this part of hangovers. The feeling of death, and the desperate need to throw up, over and over again, and his inability to recover as fast as the rest of his band. He didn’t get it, he’d been drinking just as much as they had, for just as long, and he was always the sickest, the morning after.

“You can go back to bed until one,” Ashton offered, setting his mug down. “We have van call at two, and then an afternoon of press.”

Luke sighed, letting his fork fall from his hand and drop onto his plate. “Where’s everyone else?” he rasped.

“Calum stayed at the party the night before,” Ashton explained. “Not sure about Michael.”

Luke nodded, leaning his left elbow on the table to hold his head, while his right picked up his fork. He pushed the eggs around, watching as the tomato sauce made them soggy, his once-crisp toast forgotten on the edge of his plate.

“You had enough,” Ashton offered, his fatherly-voice on point.

Luke would never admit it, but there were times when he wanted to be babied. Not because he was the youngest in the band, or because it was particularly _good_ , but sometimes he just wanted Ashton to tell him what to do, to guide him through the day and make him eggs and parent him, just a little.

“Have the rest of your water for me,” the older man encouraged with a soft smile.

Luke nodded, abandoning his fork again before lifting his water glass, taking slow, short sips of the cool liquid.

He’d been there before – in the early days of his drinking career – where he’d ended up even sicker after chugging a litre of cold water.  He’d been _thirsty_ , his throat parched from his earlier puking episode, and he’d felt _better_ , so why shouldn’t he drink water?

He knew as soon as it his stomach, his body rejecting it almost immediately, all over the kitchen floor in their London flat. Ashton had babied him then, too.

Once he’d finished slowly sipping his water – and taking the two painkillers Ashton had left for him beside his glass – he pushed his chair back, wincing as it screeched over the tiles. He went to pick up his plate, intending to tidy up after himself, but Ashton swooped in, reaching for the plate across the table.

“Go on, up to bed,” Ashton advised.

Luke frowned, looking over at the other man. “Why aren’t you miserable?” he demanded. “This isn’t fair.”

Ashton smiled. “I’m smarter than you when it comes to drinking,” he said easily. “You’re the kind of cliché-teenager-getting-wasted-behind-mum-and-dad’s-back,” he smirked. “You’ll learn, in time.”

Luke rolled his eyes and flipped Ashton off. “I liked it better when we all suffered together.”

Ashton laughed. “Oh, I’m sure Cal is feeling it,” he smiled. “I’m going to head over there now, see if I can drag him back here for a sleep before we need to go.”

Luke’s shoulders slumped tiredly, and he leant up against the wall. “Alright. I’m gonna sleep.”

“Good plan,” Ashton smiled, shooing him away.

Luke took his time, shuffling towards the stairs and ascending them slowly, fingers gripped tightly around the bannister in case his legs buckled, his throat sore from puking and the sharp pain in his ass was still there.

He groaned, thinking about it.

It had been so long since he’d felt that particular pain, and he knew _exactly_ where it had come from. He’d been fucked in the ass a total of four times – _five_ , now – and he knew how it felt. The ache that reminded him of the night before, that tension in his lower back. There were even scratch marks on his inner thighs and he was so glad Ashton hadn’t seen them.

He didn’t want to have to explain himself.

He stopped in at the bathroom and leant against the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His complexion was pale, dark bags under his eyes, and redness around his lip ring. He looked worse for wear and for the _second_ time that morning, he cursed whoever thought it was a good idea to have a party before he had to _work_.

He couldn’t imagine trying to give an interview while in his state, and he tried not to think of the reality that this was more than _one_ interview. It was probably his least favourite; a round robin of radio hosts and magazine writers asking the same questions, over and over again, and he was expected to deliver answers in a timely and upbeat fashion.

He almost wished he’d die in his sleep so he could avoid it.

He brushed his teeth half-heartedly before shuffling back into the hall and towards his closed bedroom door. Inside was sanctuary, a guaranteed place where he could shut off his brain and get some badly needed sleep.

The room was pitch black when he shoved the door open, the drapes pulled shut so tight that the light trying to break through them was unsuccessful. It was the darkness that tripped Luke up – or it could’ve been his discarded boots – and he stumbled, his head pounding as he almost hit the floor, gripping the edge of the dresser to stay upright.

He groaned, taking a moment to get his bearings before taking his shirt off, and shoved his sweatpants to the floor. He staggered towards the bed and crawled on gingerly, slumping down against the pillows with a sigh.

He laid there immobile for a moment, just sucking in some slow, deep breaths before he heard it.

The slow, deep breaths of _someone else_.

He reached his arm out, walking his fingers across the messy sheets until he hit something solid. He waited a moment, waiting for a reaction before he walked his fingers over the body beside him, discerning that the skin he was touching was someone’s hip. Their _bare_ hip.

“Shit,” he whispered softly, afraid to say anything other than that. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout over his one night stand. He wasn’t even sure why the guy ended up in _his_ bed, when Luke had woken up in Michael’s room.

The person next to him groaned, and Luke’s stomach dropped out again.

He knew that groan.

And in the back of his mind he’d known the moment he’d woken up naked in Michael’s bed that this hook up wasn’t anonymous.

“Luke?”

Luke bit down on his bottom lip, eyes blinking quickly as Michael stirred next to him.

“Why’re you in my bed?” Michael asked, his voice rough and deep.

“I-I’m not,” Luke whispered. “You’re in mine.”

Michael sighed, rolling onto his back. “What time is it? What year?”

Luke chewed on his lip so harshly he expected the taste of blood to flood his mouth. “Uh, it’s early,” he murmured. “And it’s still twenty-fifteen.”

“Right,” Michael said around a yawn. “I’m naked.”

Luke figured as much.

“Are you?”

Luke wished he could escape the moment, and the room. He didn’t want to have this conversation, he didn’t want Michael to put together what he’d already assembled in his mind, which was that he _totally_ had sex with Michael the night before.

“I-I was,” Luke said slowly. “When I woke up. In your bed.”

“My bed?”

Luke nodded, not caring that it hurt and Michael probably couldn’t see him in the dark room.

“Did we fuck?”

Luke felt like throwing up again, and he pressed his face into his pillow, tempted to ask Michael to hold his head down until he _died_.

“Hey,” Michael called out, the mattress shifting, and Luke felt the insistent prod of Michael’s fingers in his side. “Why are you hiding?”

Luke let out a groan into his pillow before lifting his head to look to his left. He could see Michael now, up close and in his personal bubble, and despite his hangover, his eyes still sparkled bright, and his red lips were turned down almost in a pout.

“Why are you hiding?” Michael questioned again.

“Why aren’t you?” Luke demanded softly, looking away from his intense eyes. “We had _sex_.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Michael tried, and Luke appreciated his attempt at obliviousness. They both knew what happened, and Luke wished that it hadn’t.

“Michael,” he sighed. “I’m too hungover for this shit.”

Michael’s hand settled against his lower back, rubbing it in slow circles that did enough to loosen the tension there for Luke, just a little.

He sighed, dropping his head down onto his pillow and closed his eyes. “I’m so tired.”

“Do you want me to go?” Michael offered, his hand stilling momentarily.

“No,” Luke said – too _quickly_ , goddammit – and sighed. “You don’t have to.”

Michael’s hand slid over his lower back and over his hip, tugging Luke backwards, onto his left side, and he was almost immediately curling around the younger man’s back.

Luke let out a soft sigh, and tried not to think about Michael being naked, that out of the two of them, the only thing separating their bare flesh was the boxer briefs Luke was wearing, and he was almost positive they belonged to Michael anyway.

It was only weird for a moment, before Michael was nuzzling his nose in against the crook of Luke’s shoulder, and splaying his hand out over Luke’s abdomen.

“Can we talk about this later?” he enquired softly, his breath making Luke shiver. “When we’re not so fucked up?”

“Yeah,” Luke heard himself agree, and he wanted to punch himself in the face.

He _never_ wanted to talk about it. He wanted things to go back to normal and forget that he let his _best friend_ fuck him in the _ass_ on said best friend’s birthday.

He was disappointed in himself for doing it, knowing that he should’ve given their friendship more of a thought before possibly ruining it completely. And all for an _orgasm_ , at that.

He let out a dejected sigh, and let the exhaustion drag him under.

**

It’s better when Luke wakes up.

His headache is manageable, fading to a dull throb at the base of his skull, and he thinks he might actually survive.

His bed is empty, which is another good thing, because despite agreeing to _talk_ to Michael, he’d been full of shit. He was marginally happy that Michael had bailed already, partly because Luke didn’t want to have The Talk, but he also didn’t want to explain to Ashton why their lead guitarist was _naked_ in his _bed_.

He let out a soft sigh as he rolled over checking the time. It was only a little after eleven, and Luke knew he could roll over and go back to sleep if he wanted, but now that his attention wasn’t on his hangover, he now had time to _stew_.

He started to overthink, searching his memory of what had _exactly_ happened the night before.

He could remember the drinks, and the crush of people crammed into the living area of _someone’s_ house. He could remember seeing Niall, and giggling helplessly over Michael’s birthday cake before being roped into shots with Calum.

He’d had a great time, making new friends and catching up with old ones and there wasn’t _one_ moment that had started everything…

…except there _was_.

Luke groaned, covering his face with his hands as it came back in flashes.

He was so _stupid_ , his glazed over eyes settling on Michael, tracking him as he hugged his friends as he headed toward the kitchen for another drink, and Luke’s eyes had only drooped further as that happy-drunk feeling spread through him.

At least until Michael was being _grabbed_ – in a decidedly _more-than-friends_ way – by none other than Harry Styles.

Luke could remember Michael’s short-term fling with the superstar during the second world tour. Michael was _proud_ of it, telling all the intimate details, just to the rest of the band, because this was something _huge_.

Luke had been _jealous_ , and he chalked that up to the fact he’d still been a virgin, and the way Michael would talk about the size of Harry’s dick and the way they’d screw without being caught left him _frustrated_.

He’d just wanted to have sex.

That was it.

But when he’d seen Harry snag Michael’s hand, their fingers lacing together as he pulled Michael away from his mission for another drink, Luke had seen _red_.

He’d been listening to Niall talk about something, and he abruptly righted himself and walked away, heading in the direction of Harry and Michael, watching as they disappeared down the hall towards the bathroom and Luke had drunkenly followed them, wedging his foot in the gap between the bathroom door and the doorframe as the two other men disappeared inside.

_“Luke my boy!” Harry crowed. “Nice to see you.”_

Luke had said something, very possibly _slurred_ it, too, his eyes on Michael the whole time.

_“I need to talk to Mikey.”_

Harry was a gentleman, as always, and pressed a soft kiss to Michael’s cheek, squeezing over his rear as he wished him a happy birthday and disappeared from the bathroom.

Michael’s expression was one of annoyance when he and Luke were alone, and Luke was aware of the fact he didn’t say anything, for a really long time.

Until Michael was rolling his eyes and moving to push past Luke to _leave_ , and then sensible Luke disappeared, and impulsive, _drunk_ Luke mad an appearance and pulled Michael into a bruising kiss.

He’d gone down on his knees for the birthday boy, behind the unlocked door of _someone’s_ bathroom, and Michael had been in fine form, making promises the entire time he was in Luke’s mouth, yelping as he came and ripped Luke up to his feet by his hair, kissing him roughly.

They were _so_ drunk, and Luke didn’t _care_ , and he was quickly stopping Michael as the other man undid his belt with intentions of returning the favour.

_“Take me home and fuck me instead.”_

Luke groaned, able to hear the fucked out words in his head, playing on a loop. It was _awful_ , and he couldn’t believe Michael hadn’t laughed in his face. He wished he had, now that he was looking back. They’d jumped into _sex_ and it wasn’t like it was a minor mishap.

They had kissed and touched each other and Luke had bottomed for the first time in a little while and it had _hurt_ , but it was still the best sex of his life.

And now they were left in the aftermath, the awkwardness of having to talk about it, the possibility that things would be changed forever now, because despite knowing almost everything about the other three guys in his band, Luke felt that Michael’s orgasm face was maybe crossing the line.

Just thinking about it made him feel sick again, and he picked up his phone off the bedside table, squinting against the brightness of the screen. He checked out his Instagram feed, seeing a few pictures from the night before, and was monumentally glad there weren’t any embarrassing ones of _him_.

The last thing he needed was a call from his mum about underage drinking in the States. It would just top off what was already a fucked up day, and it wasn’t even midday.

He checked Twitter next, and with a sickening feeling as he read multiple birthday messages for Michael, he realized that he _hadn’t done that yet_.

There was no tweet from him, wishing his best friend a happy birthday. No stupid emojis, no sentiments, _nothing_.

That probably felt worse than his hangover.

Especially now that people were DM’ing him asking why he hadn’t wished Michael a happy birthday, scrolling quickly to see the tweet from Calum, and the equally sweet reply from Michael.

He quickly hit the icon in the top right corner and was presented with an empty box. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, waiting for the words to come to him, but nothing came. He was frozen, unsure what to write that wouldn’t elude to his discomfort or guilt over the fact he’d waited until the day _after_ to tweet.

He couldn’t do it now. Not now that it was a _thing_ , and especially not after having _sex_ with Michael. He was terrified that whatever he’d write would expose him, that his thumbs would type _happy birthday_ and _I had sex with Michael_ would appear instead.

With a groan he locked his phone, dropped it on the floor, and rolled over.

**

“Luke? Hey? We’ve gotta go soon.”

Luke groaned – it seemed to be his reaction to most things lately – and rolled over to see Ashton looking down at him, two mugs in his hands.

Ashton smiled. “Sleep alright?”

Luke always woke up one of two ways. Happily, contentedly, or down right pissed off.

And it wasn’t Ashton’s fault he woke up in the latter manner, and he had to grit his teeth to keep an asshole response inside his mouth.

“Uh oh,” Ashton said softly, setting a mug down on the bedside table. “I’ll leave you be?”

The consideration _almost_ bought a smile to Luke’s face, and he just nodded gratefully as Ashton smiled and vacated his room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Luke lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and trying to sort out his head. He’d dreamt of Michael. Parts of last night had come back to him, mostly parts where he was naked and Michael was inside him, and he’s not certain, but he’s pretty sure they didn’t use a condom.

He could see his mother’s disapproving face in his head, and he could see the uncomfortable expression of Calum and Ashton too, because what if this was a thing they had to _tell_ people? Luke was suddenly so incredibly glad he wasn’t a girl. At least he couldn’t get pregnant.

He sat up slowly, his arms outstretched behind him, his ass still aching vaguely as he looked around his empty room. It was a mess, as always, and they’d only been back in town for a week. He shoved the sheets off and scooted back to sit against the headboard, reaching for the hot cup of coffee on his bedside table, blowing gently on the hot liquid before taking a grateful sip.

His clock said 12:48 and he was dying for a shower. He was still sticky with sweat from the night before, his hair matted to his forehead and he still smelt like alcohol and sex and he wanted to wash it all away, and hopefully wash away his memories, too.

He channelled all of his limited brain power into not thinking while he had his coffee, just focusing on taking slow sips, and inhaling in through his nose, and out through his mouth.

His eyes started to droop, and he wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to sleep for so long that the awkwardness would be erased.

But once his coffee was gone and he knew he couldn’t avoid his life forever, he dragged himself out of bed, and quickly stripped the sheets off the mattress. They were sweaty anyway, and Michael’s dick had been all over them and Luke just wanted to start again.

He balled them up and left them in the corner, not bothering to look for fresh sheets as he gathered some clothes together. His effort was minimal, piling up a pair of black skinnys and a black t-shirt, searching for a hat because he could not be bothered with his damn hair.

He knew he’d have to let go of his annoyance and destructive thought process before he was exposed to interact with actual people, because if he had learnt anything during his short career, it was that a bad interview hung around for quite a while.

So he tried to leave it behind, grabbing some clean underwear and left his room, heading down the hall to the empty bathroom.

Luke leant up against the closed door for just a second, letting out a slow sigh. He stacked his clothes on the sink and turned on the water, pulling off his underwear and kicked it under the sink, waiting until the water heated up before stepping in.

The water relaxed his shoulders immediately and he hung his head forward, feeling it beat down against the back of his neck and trickle over his jawline as the water rushed out. His hands pressed against the tiles, his feet planted securely on the tiled floor and he sighed, the tension dripping out of him quickly.

He stood there for longer than he should, knowing that if anyone else was left to shower, there wouldn’t be much hot water left, but he didn’t _care_.

Until the door was opening.

“Luke?”

Luke groaned, opening his eyes but not moving from his position. “Go away,” he muttered out.

Michael rapped his knuckles on the glass door. “You’re hogging all the hot water.”

“I don’t care,” Luke snapped, the tension settling in his shoulders once more.

Michael went silent, and Luke hoped that meant he was _leaving,_ but suddenly the shower door was being opened and Luke bolted upright.

“What are you _doing_?” Luke demanded, his voice high-pitched.

“I’m sharing the shower with you, duh,” Michael muttered, completely naked and a look of annoyance on his face. “You’re using all the hot water like an _asshole_ , so you’ve give me no choice.”

Luke swallowed, backing away from Michael in the large stall, not wanting to do this. He did _not_ want to do this.

“Get out!”

“Fuck you,” Michael sighed, rolling his eyes. It seemed to click in his mind the opportunity for a joke, and Luke expected it. “Wait, I already did that.”

Luke’s hands balled into fists and he crushed his eyes shut. Was this how it would be now? Merciless insults about them sleeping together to remind Luke of his horrible judgement when he was drunk?

“Oh calm down,” Michael sighed, grabbing his wrist and pulled him away from the water so he could step under. “We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

“We haven’t showered together,” Luke said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Michael ducked under the water, letting it flatting his bright red hair, some of the dye running off the tips and down his milky white chest.

Luke could remember pulling his hair the night before, his fingers sliding into it and gripping hard.

“Do you want to talk about last night now?”

“No!” Luke hissed softly, his arms still crossed over his bare chest. “This is _not_ what I agreed to. You hijacking my shower and having to talk about last night _naked_!”

Michael grinned, reaching for the soap. “At least if we do it now you can’t escape. Cause I get the feeling you want to, right?”

Luke looked over at him, and could see a flash of _something_ on Michael’s face before the expression disappeared, and he shifted his weight nervously. “Aren’t you _worried_ about it?”

Michael ran the soap under his arms and across his torso, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, it was pretty impulsive, but it was good sex.”

Luke’s cheeks heated up, and he _hated_ his sexual inexperience.

“Do you regret it?”

Their eyes met briefly and Luke looked away, unsure how to answer the question.

“Luke?”

He sighed, biting at his lip ring. “I worry that it will affect our friendship and the band,” he admitted. “Like we didn’t think it through.”

A slow smile bloomed on Michael’s face. “How’s your memory from last night?”

Luke scratched at his beard, keeping his eyes averted. “It’s okay.”

“What do you remember?”

Luke swallowed, eyes on the brown feature tiles on the wall. “Uh, just…seeing you and Harry together,” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the water. “Uh, me, uh…”

“The blowjob,” Michael supplied.

Luke nodded his head once. “I remember asking to come back here,” he continued. “Of us…kissing.”

“Yeah?”

“Did we use a condom?” Luke asked, the uncomfortableness of the moment making him want to throw up.

Michael didn’t answer for a few moments, and Luke looked up at him. Michael smiled, a soft, apologetic one, and that was all Luke needed to know that they _hadn’t_.

“Everything else is a blur.”

“Right,” Michael said softly, setting the soap back on the small ledge in the shower. “You don’t remember what you said?”

Luke’s stomach fell, and all of a sudden, beads of sweat dotted his hairline. In all his thoughts and dreams, he’d never once stopped to think about all the embarrassing things he could’ve _said_.

“It wasn’t bad,” Michael said quickly, noticing his discomfort. “I mean, you’re great at dirty talk,” he offered. “You were just…kind of sweet.”

“Sweet?” Luke questioned gingerly. “What did I _say_ Michael?”

Michael smiled softly. “You said you didn’t get me a present and you were sorry and that you were watching me all night. When I went off with Harry, you got jealous.”

Luke sagged back against the tiled wall and let his head fall back to thud against it gently. He was _mortified_ , because he had the habit of saying stupid shit at the wrong time, and if that was what had happened, how was he supposed to look Michael in the eye again.

“You said you wanted me,” Michael continued. “That you thought about me like that.”

“Jesus,” Luke whined softly. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Michael laughed. “You’re sorry? You got laid, you shouldn’t be sorry.”

Luke looked over at him for a moment before looking away. “But we’re best friends, and I never should’ve done that when I was drunk.”

Michael raised a brow. “Are you telling me that you would’ve done it if you were sober?”

Luke realized his mistake, the moment Michael’s eyebrow quirked. He knew he was admitting things he planned to _never_ talk about, but it was a slippery slope and they’d _slept_ together, so it seemed kind of stupid to hold everything back now.

“Do you like me, Luke?”

He was tempted to respond with a smart ass remark. _Of course I like you, you’re my best friend_. But he was naked and Michael was staring at him and not running away and the crush on him that Luke had thought he’d buried so deep down inside him that would _never_ come out, was rushing out of him quickly.

“Just forget it,” he said quickly, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t want do this.”

He reached for the glass shower door and intended on escaping, before Michael’s fingers were sliding around his wrist, pulling his hand away.

“Stay.”

Luke looked over at him. There was no cocky smirk on his face, no mischief in his eyes. He almost looked contrite, his hair flattened against his head and his five o’clock shadow dotting his chin and he was _beautiful_ and Luke was _fucked_.

“I never would’ve slept with you if I didn’t want to,” Michael pointed out.

Luke pulled away from his touch, crossing his arms over his chest again. “But we just _went_ for it,” Luke murmured. “I feel shitty about it, like I didn’t think about our friendship before kissing you.”

“It’s better that way,” Michael insisted. “No bullshit, no filter. You wanted me, I wanted you and we had sex.”

“But what about our friendship?”

“Well,” Michael said, picking up the soap and started to lather down his arm again. “Do you want to stop being my friend?”

“No, absolutely not,” Luke murmured, watching the soap in Michael’s’ hand.

“Same goes for me,” the other man said, nodding his head. “Do you want to pretend it never happened?”

“No.” The word slipped out before Luke knew it, and he let out a sigh.

“Me either.”

He looked up at Michael and bit down on his lip ring. “We can’t do this.”

Michael shrugged, running the soap over his abdomen. “We can if we’re smart.”

Luke was sceptical, but intrigued. “Smart?”

Michael smiled. “We can figure out what we want, go to Cal and Ash. Be honest and mature about it.”

“W-what would that mean?”

Michael smirked, setting the soap down again and took a step towards Luke. “It would mean _dating_ me, Hemmings. Or, just see where this goes?”

Luke can see it, in his head. He can see them starting, and it would be _great_ , he knew it would be. But then they’d get too comfortable, they’d start to forget that it was secret to anyone but their friends and they’d make mistakes.

Then it would be over; uproar in the fandom, their management team insisting they weren’t allowed to date. They’d be on the front cover of a tabloid magazine, and that’s how Luke’s family would find out – Luke’s _brothers_ would find out he was gay on the front of People magazine.

“No,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Mikey, but I can’t,” he whispered.

Michael’s face fell, and Luke almost heard it shatter. “Oh,” the older man murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said quickly, reaching out to touch him, but Michael stepped away.

“We probably shouldn’t shower together then, hey?” Michael asked weakly, his smile forced.

Luke felt worse than he had when he woke up that morning, and despite knowing that his decision was right, it didn’t feel like it.

“Look, don’t worry,” Michael assured him. “It was just a hook up, no one else has to know. We’ll just forget it, alright? It’s not worth ruining the friendship, right?”

Luke nodded mutely, and he could see in the sagging of Michael’s shoulders that he was hurt, and the fact that Luke had done the hurting made the younger man feel sick.

“So, I hijacked your shower,” Michael said, washing the soap off quickly. “I’ll jump out, leave you be.”

Luke didn’t know what to say so he said nothing, watching Michael inch past him to get out, grabbing a towel and disappeared, hair still dripping red on the tiles, and as soon as the door shut, Luke sagged back against the wall and crushed his eyes shut against his reality.

**

“Man, didn’t you have the best time last night?”

Luke flinched at the volume of Calum’s voice as he settled on the middle seat of the van that would take them downtown, his head throbbing anew.

He’d stayed in his room after his shower, remaking his bed and tidying up and trying to avoid thinking about Michael, but it was impossible. He thought of him the night before, the way he’d kissed him and the way he’d been undressed and Michael’s mouth on his chest and fingernails running down his inner thighs.

So much was coming back to him, the longer he thought about it. The drive home with Ashton, the three of them silent but Luke was humming with anticipation, fingers digging into his knees to keep from touching Michael.

Then arriving home, stumbling upstairs into Michael’s room and kissing until they were breathless. Luke could hear some of the embarrassing things he’d said when Michaels’ fingers were inside him, and he basically professed his love; admitting he liked Michael romantically, sexually. That his jealousy when it came to Harry Styles was palpable and that he wanted to be the only guy Michael was with.

His headache had come back with a vengeance, and he’d swallowed two more painkillers before Ashton was corralling them outside to the waiting van.

Michael sat in the back and Luke avoided his eyes as he put his seatbelt on as Calum settled beside him. Calum seemed to be in good spirits, bouncing a little in his seat, and Ashton caught his enthusiasm, and they made jokes and talked about the party while Luke tried to block them out.

He’d put his headphones on but his head was throbbing, so he leant his forehead up against the cool glass, and closed his eyes.

**

Luke does his very best in all the interviews. He smiles and laughs and offers his point of view and they talk about Michael’s birthday party and how excited they were to play at the American Music Awards again.

Ashton parents him a little in-between, a hand on his lower back, giving him a gentle _not too long to go, mate_ whenever Luke sighs particularly hard. It’s enough for him to power through, and he loves Ashton.

But he’s figured out very quickly that he loves Michael, too.

To his credit, he is unfailingly happy, bouncing his way through the interviews and pulling Calum into a headlock when the opportunity presented itself. He curled his arm around Luke’s waist when they had to take photos, but his fingers didn’t do that _thing_ they usually did.

The little curl where he pressed his fingers in against Luke’s side, or his shoulder, fingertips brushing gently.

And Luke missed it.

He wanted it back.

By the time the interview cycle was over, Luke had sunk deeper and deeper into himself, and Calum kept _looking_ at him, and Michael was still happy, insisting on a Netflix marathon when they got home and Ashton was tired and trying to talk him down, even though it didn’t work.

Luke just wanted to go home and sleep, because now that he’d said _no_ , all he wanted was the memories of the night before to come back.

He fell asleep in the car, his head on Calum’s shoulder, and when they arrived home he woke up slowly to Calum’s hand patting his thigh.

“What?”

“Hey,” Calum said softly. “We’re back at the house.”

Luke lifted his head to look out the windows of the car to the dark of the night, the car empty and the other half of their band missing, and Luke didn’t want to move.

“Ash told me what happened last night.”

Luke blinked sleepily, yawning behind his hand. “What about last night?”

“You and Michael.”

Luke frowned, the information sliding into place in his sleep deprived brain.

“Look,” Calum said softly, shifting on the bench seat to turn and face Luke more. “I know you’re probably confused and upset and I want you to know it’s _okay_ , and if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Luke turned to look at him, a frown still etched on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What does _Ashton_ know about last night?”

Calum smiled. “He went home with you guys, remember? He said you guys were all over each other and that when you disappeared into Michael’s room he heard… _stuff_.”

Luke didn’t accept that.

He was _certain_ that up until Michael’s bedroom door shut, they’d been hands off. There was nothing to indicate they were going to sleep together, and surely they weren’t loud enough for Ashton to _hear_ them.

Right?

“Luke,” Calum said, interrupting his panicked thoughts. “I know that you’re kind of _new_ to your sexuality,” he said gently. “And with the way you’ve been all day, I figured you were battling?”

Luke started to feel nauseous, because now his entire band knew he’d slept with Michael, and as much as Luke loved Calum, he did _not_ want to be having this conversation with him.

“Have you talked to Michael? He’s the most easy-going guy there is.”

“Cal, just stop,” Luke blurted out, his hands coming up to cover his face. “For the love of _God_ , stop.”

“Hey,” Calum said gently, reaching out to pull one of Luke’s hands away from his face. “It’s okay, Luke.”

“It’s not!” Luke insisted, starting to feel a little hysterical, because whatever control he had over the situation was now falling apart at the seams. “You don’t know what you’re talking about and I’d appreciate it if we could _not_ talk about it.”

“What is it?” Calum pressed. “Did he pressure you?”

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Calum smiled ruefully. “Yeah, stupid question. But I won’t know what’s going on unless you tell me.”

“Why do I have to tell you?” Luke demanded. “It’s private!”

“Because you’re upset,” Calum pointed out simply. “And you usually always talk to me when you sleep with someone.”

“Not when it’s Michael,” Luke muttered softly.

“I’m not letting you out of this car until we talk about it.”

Luke knew that, even before Calum had said it. And the other man was right, he usually did talk to Calum whenever he had sex, mostly to just get it all out of his head. But he couldn’t’ sit there and talk to Michael’s oldest and closest friend, about their sex life.

About how Michael felt touching his skin, about his red mouth pressing kisses down over his chest, the way he felt when Michael was inside him. There was no way in hell he could step over that boundary.

“Do you have feelings for him?”

Luke’s shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh. “Is it that obvious?”

Calum laughed softly, wrapping his arm around Luke’s broad shoulders. “I know you, kid.”

Luke would normally bite back a retort about the nickname, but he was too tortured, too wrapped up in his mistake to bother.

“And he doesn’t feel the same?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Luke mumbled. “I think he does. And I turned him down, and I hurt him and I didn’t wish him happy birthday on Twitter and I keep getting these DM’s and I don’t know what to _do_ , Cal,” he said in a rush.

“Okay,” Calum said slowly, squeezing his shoulder. “First of all, Mikey loves you. Secondly, who gives a shit if you wish him happy birthday on Twitter. In case you don’t remember, you literally said it a thousand times last night at the party. I think it’s even on a snapchat somewhere.”

Luke smiled tiredly. “So what do I do? About rejecting him?”

“Talk to him,” Calum advised. “You know his whole happy, peppy thing this arvo was bull, right? He’s always _up_ when he’s down.”

Luke chewed on his bottom lip, and could remember Michael doing the same, the night before. He wanted nothing more than to march into the house and fix things, but his earlier concerns were still there.

“What about our friendship, and the band?”

“You do realize that you haven’t been in a relationship since the band took off, right?”

“Yeah, pretty hard to forget,” Luke said dryly.

“You saw how it went for Ash. He tried so fucking hard to keep it together with Bry, and when they broke things off he was shattered.”

“What’s your point?”

Calum jostled him a little. “You have the chance to date someone _in_ your band. There are no goodbyes or promises to call. There’s no not seeing the person you’re dating every few months. You’d see him every day. Do you know how lucky you are to have that opportunity?”

Luke looked over at Calum, and the pinched look on his face. He knew how hard it was to date, he’d failed at it spectacularly but Calum had struggled more. He wasn’t a casual sex kind of guy, but he didn’t have time to meet people and form a connection with them before moving on to the next city.

“Your friendship with Michael has withstood this crazy life we’ve had for the last four years. You’re closer to him than anyone, and your entire friendship has been like foreplay. He _likes_ you. You’re both just lucky you were trashed last night and finally did each other.”

Luke smiled, looking down at the floor of the van. “And you and Ash?”

“Eh,” Calum shrugged. “We get to make fun of the two of you, and as long as there are some ground rules, I can’t see it being a huge problem.”

“What about the label? Management? _Fans_?”

Calum laughed. “Okay, fuck the label _and_ management. And if you guys decide to go public, then the fans will eat it up. You’ve got the control here, remember?”

“And if he won’t budge?”

Calum smiled. “Get your ass out of this van and go get him.”

Luke let out a soft laugh and pulled Calum into a tight hug, before climbing out of the van.

**

Luke was glad that the living area was empty when he went inside. As much as he maybe wanted to give Ashton a hug because he was _awesome_ , he was mostly focused on talking to Michael.

He climbed the stairs and stopped at his closed bedroom door, tapping his knuckles against it softly.

“Yeah?”

Luke twisted the doorknob and opened the door, stepping into Michael’s bedroom. It was dark, illuminated only by the two lamps at either side of the bed. Michael was picking clothes up off the floor and dumping them onto the unmade bed, and his eyebrows went up when he saw Luke.

“Yeah?”

Luke shut the door, his hands sliding into his back pockets and rocking back on his heels. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded. “Same. I think these are yours.”

Luke looked at the items in his hands, his creased black button down and skinny jeans, and what looked like the underwear he’d been wearing the night before. He flushed bright red, taking the clothing out of Michael’s hands.

“Anything else?”

Luke looked over at him, his chest full of pain. He hated this awkwardness, how Michael wanted to get rid of him.

“I made a mistake,” the younger man blurted out. “When we were in the shower and you said we should try, and I said no. I was wrong.”

“Okay,” Michael said slowly. “But maybe you were right? I was thinking about it this afternoon that it might mess up the band and our friendsh – “

“No,” Luke interrupted, putting his clothes down on top of the dresser. “Mikey, I was _wrong_ , and I want to try, I really do.”

Michael sighed. “I knew you’d do this. Look, you’re the smart one, okay? I’m the impulsive one but you almost always make the right decision and I think you were right.”

Luke crossed to the bed, grabbing at Michael’s sleeve. “No,” he insisted again. “Jesus, I can’t _think_ around you.”

Michael smiled fondly. “Thanks.”

Luke smiled. “I made a mistake, Mikey. Last night was great and I panicked when you said we should date because I haven’t dated since high school, and that was _high school_. I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s kind of endearing,” Michael admitted. “But you were right about the band and our friendship.”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of great, too,” Luke pointed out. “Look at Ash and Bryana. He loved her so much and they couldn’t make it work because we’re always away. You and me are together all the time, there won’t be goodbyes and having to make things work.”

“And the band?”

“We’ll just be honest,” Luke insisted. “And respectful. And they’ll mock us, it’ll bring us all closer together.”

Michael laughed softly. “Do you really mean it?”

“Yeah,” Luke said softly, tugging on the sleeve of Michael’s shirt. “I’ve liked you forever.”

“You told me that, last night.”

Luke sighed, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, how bad was I? Is this something I’m never going to live down?”

“Nah,” Michael shrugged. “It was cute. You were just you, and that’s what I loved the most. More than the sex.”

Luke smiled. “Yeah?”

Michael nodded. “For sure. The sex was a bonus, but I loved seeing you like that, honest and stuff.”

Luke could feel his cheeks warm up, and he felt a little bashful. “I really like you.”

Michael smiled, reaching up to curl his fingers around the back of Luke’s neck, pulling him in. He eased up on his toes just a little and kissed him, their dry lips brushing together.

Luke wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist, feeling the incredulous joy run down his spine.

“I like you too,” Michael whispered, kissing over Luke’s lip ring. “And I’m gonna tell you everything about last night, okay? It’s something I want you to remember.”

Luke nodded, letting out a soft pant as Michael’s teeth closed over his lip ring. “You did that last night,” he mumbled, the skin around the ring pulling as he spoke.

“I did,” Michael confirmed, his arms sliding around Luke’s middle, one hand moving down over his ass. “Stay in here tonight?”

“Yeah,” Luke agreed quickly. “Alright.”

Michael kissed over his stubbled jaw and down his throat. “We got back here and you kissed me at the bottom of the stairs and Ashton laughed.”

“Oh great,” Luke whined softly. “No wonder he was so nice to me this morning.”

“It _was_ great,” Michael assured him. “I had to fend you off until we got up here. But God, Luke. You’re such a good kisser.”

That was new information, and Luke was glad. No one had told him that before, but he thought out of all the people he’d ever kissed, he was glad it was Michael who told him.

“We rushed,” Michael continued, tugging Luke’s t-shirt to the side to kiss over his collarbone. “Couldn’t really control ourselves. We got naked standing just about here,” he said, his hands closing over Luke’s hips and moved him a few steps towards the door. “You begged me to touch you.”

Luke was pretty impressed with Drunk Luke. Drunk Luke seemed to be very confident, and he was a great kisser. Luke seriously considered becoming an alcoholic for a quick minute, but he realized he always wanted to remember the moments he had with Michael.

“You took two of my fingers right off the bat,” Michael panted softly, teeth closing over the skin stretched over Luke’s collarbone. “Right up against the wall.” He pushed Luke back against the wall, pinning him there.

Luke let out a stuttered breath, his fingertips trembling as memories flooded his mind and he was powerless to stop the moan that came out of his mouth.

Michael chuckled. “It was three fingers within a matter of minutes and then you were done,” he breathed. “Begging me for it.”

Luke whined, grabbing at Michael’s shirt and pulling him away from where Michael was kissing his chest. He cupped his jaw, fingers stroking over the stubble on his face before leaning in to kiss him.

Michael let out a soft sound, gripping Luke’s hips and kissed him back, biting at his bottom lip before his tongue pressed forward.

Luke felt his knees tremble and he gripped Michael tighter. “Mikey, wait,” he panted, pulling his mouth away.

“What is it?” Michael asked softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Luke smiled, cupping his jaw. “Really okay. Just…are we going to have sex?”

Michael lifted his head, raising an eyebrow. “We need a game plan before we get into it?”

Luke blushed, looking down for a moment. “No,” he said, pout evident in his voice. “I’m just…uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Michael gasped. “Oh _God_ , did I do something _wrong_? To make you feel awkward?”

“No!” Luke said quickly, his hands gripping Michael’s forearms when the older man tried to pull away. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he promised him softly. “I just, I feel…last night was the first time in a while, and I’m like… _uncomfortable_.”

Michael was still frowning, his expression unsure.

Luke sighed and rolled his eyes. “My ass hurts,” he said flatly.

A grin curled onto Michael’s face and he tried to hold back his laughter but was unsuccessful. “Oh God, Luke. I thought I’d done something wrong! You can just say if your ass hurts, okay?”

Luke leant forward and buried his face in Michael’s neck. “Shut up. But it’d been a while since the last time I had sex, and like you said, we rushed…”

“Well,” Michael murmured, kissing his neck. “How about we go slow this time, yeah?”

Luke’s stomach bottomed out and he nodded, pulling Michael in. “I want that, yeah.”

Michael pulled him away from the wall and guided Luke to the bed, pushing him down gently. He unbuttoned his shirt, eyes dark as he watched Luke, pushing the fabric off his shoulder before starting on his belt.

“Okay,” Luke whispered, leaning back on his hands as he watched.

“You too.”

Luke smiled, taking his hat off, and pulled his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. He was about to reach for his belt but was distracted at the picture of Michael unbuckling his own, tugging his button open and his fly down, rucking his jeans down over his ass.

“I can feel you watching me,” Michael smirked.

“Can you blame me?” Luke asked, watching as Michael pushed his jeans down his thighs.

Luke let out a soft squeak, tearing his eyes away to unbuckle his belt and quickly wrestled his pants open, shoving them down impatiently, having to pause to take off his shoes and socks before tugging the tight denim off.

Michael was watching, waiting, smirking as Luke was finally in his underwear, and Michael slid into his lap, straddling him.

“Oh Jesus,” Luke whispered.

Michael smiled, resting his hands on his shoulders. “You okay?”

Luke was almost glad he couldn’t remember much from the night before. Because this feeling, the excitement and nervousness was _real_ , and it felt like their first time and Luke knew it was right. His fingers were still trembling when they landed on Michael’s bare thighs, caressing them gently.

“Hey,” Michael murmured, cupping his jaw. “Look at me.”

Luke did as he was told, raising his eyes to look at Michael.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, ducking down to kiss him gently.

Luke whimpered, his hands moving to Michael’s hips, tugging him closer as he got lost in the kiss. It was slow and tender, Michael’s tongue pressing into his mouth for a taste, and Luke’s met his eagerly.

The kiss ended when they both needed to breathe, Michael’s forehead pressed to Luke’s.

“Did we,” Luke panted softly, squeezing Michael’s hips. “Did we really not use a condom last night?”

Michael pulled back, a guilty smile on his face. “Sorry,” he offered. “We uh, neither of us had one on us.”

Luke nodded. “Did you, uh… _inside_?”

Michael smirked and kissed the tip of Luke’s nose. “Yeah,” he confirmed gently. “It was…I’d never before, and you seemed to like it.”

Luke could feel his cheeks heat up and he crushed his eyes shut. “God, I have a pack in my room. Was I that wasted?”

“You were pretty messy,” Michael nodded. “And it was just the heat of the moment, you know? God, I barely had enough lube so that’s probably why your ass hurts.”

Luke blushed, pressing his face into Michael’s chest. “My mum would be so proud.”

Michael snorted, carding his fingers through Luke’s flat hair. “Yeah, why don’t you Facetime Liz and tell her the good news?”

Luke pinched his hip, biting at his collarbone. “Get off me so I can go get my stash?”

Michael groaned, pitching himself over onto the bed. “Hurry up, okay?”

Luke leant over and kissed him, his hand tentatively running down Michael’s inner thigh.

“Shit, go,” Michael muttered pushing him away.

Luke let out a soft laugh, gripping his dick that was hard in his underwear and got up, padding over to the door. He pulled it open and almost tripped over two items waiting for him. He was pretty sure he could hear a snicker or two as he bent down and picked up a box of condoms and a tube of lube, a post-it stuck to the bottle.

_Good luck guys, be safe!_

Luke rolled his eyes, leaving the post it note on the carpet and shut the bedroom door again.

“What’s the problem?”

Luke turned, holding up the items with a wry smile. “Our band is looking after us.”

Michael snorted, letting out a laugh as he sat up. “That’s either sweet, or creepy.”

“Maybe both,” Luke smiled, dropping the bottle of lube on the bed and tore into the box of condoms, ripping one off the strip.

“C’mere.”

Luke smiled, crawling onto the bed and leant down to kiss Michael, letting the other man pull him down on top of him.

He could feel Michael, hard against his thigh and all of a sudden his bandmates were forgotten, his stomach dropping as he let out a soft whimper.

“I want you,” Michael whispered against his mouth. “Can you feel?”

Luke whined, nodding his head as he kissed Michael harder, rocking his hips down.

Michael grabbed him roughly, rolling them over so he could settle heavily on top of Luke, one hand tugging Luke’s thigh up, grinding down against him.

Luke moaned, pulling away from the kiss to gasp, rocking his hips up.

“I know we said slow,” Michael breathed, his hands pushing Luke down into the mattress, fingers catching in the elastic of his briefs. “But I mean…can’t help it.”

Luke nodded, lifting his hips as Michael’s insistent fingers tugged his briefs down impatiently. He hissed as the fabric dragged over his dick, his nails digging into Michael’s arms.

He quickly moved his hands down to Michael’s ass, pushing his underwear down as far as he could, before grinding up against him, letting out a whimper.

“Fuck,” Michael whispered softly, pushing Luke’s legs open. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Luke whimpered, throwing _slow_ to the wind and licked into Michael’s mouth.

Michael kissed him back, rutting their hips together, his own hand pushing his briefs down around his knees so they could grind together easier. His hand fumbled for the lube, almost knocking it onto the floor.

“Mikey,” Luke almost mewled, throwing one leg over Michael’s hip. “Want to, okay? Want you to touch me.”

“Yeah,” Michael promised softly, flicking open the tube and spilled it over his fingers, kissing Luke again.

Luke’s eyelashes fluttered, Michael’s mouth kissing down his throat slowly as he felt the smear of slick fingers brush his inner thigh. He sucked in a breath, fingers tangling in Michael’s hair, giving a gentle tug which turned into a harsh pull when Michael’s wet fingers brushed over his entrance.

“Jesus,” Michael breathed, nudging his nose against Luke’s chin so he could kiss down his throat, nipping at his skin gently.

Luke let out a pitiful whine, throwing his arms to the side, spread over the bed and completely useless. Michael’s fingers stroked over him, applying the gentlest pressure, but wouldn’t press inside.

“C’mon,” Luke panted.

Michael chuckled roughly against his skin. “Thought you were sore?”

Luke felt his cheeks heat up. “Don’t care,” he panted out. “Just wanna feel you.”

“You begged me last night,” Michael murmured, the tips of two fingers pressing _in_ , just the slightest bit. “ _Mikey, please_ ,” he whispered into Luke’s skin.

Luke moaned, feeling his skin flush all over, and he could see it in his head. How insatiable he had been, how desperate. Drunk Luke had done so much for him, and he knew he’d always be grateful.

“You were so beautiful,” Michael continued, wrapping his left around Luke’s thigh, pressing his legs open further, sucking on his chest as he finally eased two fingers inside.

Luke gasped, his toes curling as his hands grappled for an anchor point, one hand twisting in the sheets, the other raking his nails over Michael’s shoulder.

It hurt, and Luke knew he was in for a world of discomfort the next day, but he’d still never felt quite so complete. Not with the way Michael was kissing over his chest, his fingers sure inside of him as they started a slow pace, curling softly when he pushed them in, thumb stroking the skin of his perineum as he worked him open.

“Luke,” he whispered, his voice scratchy and rough.

Luke whimpered, his hands moving to cup Michael’s jaw. “Kiss,” he whimpered, biting down on his lip ring.

Michael moved up to give him what he wanted, their lips sliding together in a somewhat chaste kiss, despite the constant movement of Michael’s fingers inside the younger man.

Luke felt wrecked already, spread out at the end of Michael’s messy bed, one foot dangling off the edge, and the other gripped tightly in Michael’s hold. He hiccupped softly into the other man’s mouth and pulled away, arching his back as he rolled his hips down to meet the pressure of Michael’s fingers inside him.

He’d never felt so relaxed, so cared for. The sex he’d had in the past had never been like this, he’d never cared about someone the way he cared for Michael. He wasn’t sure, but his mouth was working without his brain’s knowledge, and Michael was chuckling softly against his lips.

“I’m that good?” Michael breathed. “Never had sex like this?”

Luke’s eyes were shut, his hands roaming Michael’s shoulders. “I-I’ve never, like this before,” he whispered.

Michael kissed over his mouth and down his stubbled jaw. “Me either, yeah? Never been so important before.”

Luke turned his head and kissed Michael firmly, whimpering against his mouth.

“I think you’re ready,” Michael breathed, pulling away from the kiss to dot a few over Luke’s cheeks. “Yeah?”

Luke nodded quickly, his eyes open and bright as he stared up at Michael. “I want you, Mikey. Like last night.”

“Like last night?” Michael repeated softly, careful when he pulled his fingers out of Luke, wiping them on the sheets discreetly. “Last night was messy,” he murmured, kissing down his chest as his hand fumbled for the condom left abandoned to his right. “Tonight is going to be different.”

Luke’s breathing felt irregular, like his heart was jumping around in his chest. He could hear the condom wrapper being torn open, the slick sound of Michael putting it on. There was the flick of the tube of lube and then the bed springs creaked as Michael’s face came into view, those familiar green eyes that flooded Luke with calm, and that soft, unsure smile he’d come to love.

“You okay?”

Luke nodded, reaching up to card his fingers through Michael’s hair. “It’s not just sex.”

Michael turned his head and kissed Luke’s palm. “I know. Pretty positive I’ll fall in love with your stupid ass, if I haven’t already.”

Luke smiled, the expression stretching over his face as warmth flooded his stomach, and he pulled Michael down into a slow, burning kiss. “Want,” he whispered against the older man’s mouth. “Want to be kissing you when you push in.”

Michael groaned, his hands gripping Luke’s thighs, dragging him down the bed a few inches, fitting himself between the long limbs.

Luke cupped his cheek, tilting Michael’s head down to curl his tongue into the other man’s mouth, whimpering as he felt Michael’s erection against his thigh, before it was pressing against the cleft of his ass.

He knew it was awkward as Michael fumbled, his hands moving from Luke’s hips back to thighs, but before long, he was nudging up against Luke’s entrance, his strong, sure hands holding him still as he pushed forward, and Luke’s body opened up to accept him.

A deep, dark moan broke their kiss, the sound rushing out of Luke’s mouth as he clung to Michael, fingernails digging into the skin on his shoulders as he trembled at the feel.

“Ssh,” Michael panted, kissing over his lip ring. “I’ve got you.”

Luke whimpered, and could hear the vague sounds of Bring Me The Horizon from the wall behind him, and he wondered for a quick moment that he’d been _too_ loud, that Calum was on the other side of the wall cringing and turning up the music.

Luke didn’t pay his bandmate another thought as Michael’s hips stopped snug against his ass, feeling the older man bottom out quickly.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked, dragging his lips over Luke’s lips.

“Y-yeah,” Luke panted, his fingertips smoothing over the nail marks he’d left in Michael’s shoulder. “You’re incredible.”

Michael laughed softly. “Me? You’re the one taking my dick like a pro.”

Luke rolled his eyes, and gave the other man’s skin a sharp slap. “Don’t ruin it.”

Michael smiled, letting himself settle comfortably on top of Luke, keeping his balance by holding himself up with one hand. He inspected the freckles on Luke’s face, the curl of his honey blonde eyelashes, and just how perfect he was up close.

“Stop it,” Luke mumbled, closing his eyes.

“Stop what?”

“You’re staring,” Luke mumbled, turning his head to the side.

“Of course I am,” Michael smiled, kissing down Luke’s jaw. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Luke whimpered, flexing his toes. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m pretty sure you said that last night, too. How crazy I was for wanting you.”

Luke’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Michael. “Maybe you are crazy.”

Michael grinned. “Maybe I am. I don’t care, as long as we get to end every day like this.”

Luke was going to respond with something witty, but as soon as Michael stopped talking, he rolled his hips. It was enough to leave the younger man non-verbal, and he gasped as Michael settled into a slow grind of his hips, making the pleasure burst inside of Luke in small sparks.

“God, you’re perfect,” Michael whispered.

Luke whimpered, arching his back clear off the bed. “God, I want you to fuck me. Okay? Mikey?”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, sliding his hand between Luke’s lower back and the bed, pulling his taut body back to meet the grind of his hips.

Luke cried out, feeling the sore ache of not enough prep from the night before, coupled with the slow burn of pleasure, and he felt like it was too much. Felt like he could _come_ , just from this.

Michael’s mouth was licking down his chest, his hips grinding forward before stopping, sucking in a breath of air as he gently pulled out of Luke, and thrust back in; one solid, strong movement that had Luke crying out loudly.

“Mikey!” he gasped, his hand groping for something to hold onto, and his fingers latched onto Michael’s. He laced them together as Michael started a solid pace, every thrust in pushing all the oxygen in Luke’s lungs out, and left him a trembling, gasping mess.

The music from the other side of the wall increased in volume, and Luke took it as a challenge, though the sounds he was producing were nothing but reactions to the perfect way Michael touched him.

Michael lifted his chest up, on his knees as he thrust forward, his free hand gripping Luke’s hip as he stared down at the younger man, watching him whimper and fall apart.

Luke hooked one leg over Michael’s hip, pushing back against every thrust he was given, feeling it spark inside of him so hot and so bright that he was blinded, his eyes half-closed and his mouth hanging open and his erection so impossibly hard against his belly.

It was too much, and Luke wanted to fall apart so Michael could put him back together again, and he didn’t even try to fight it.

“You’re close,” Michael whispered.

Luke whimpered.

“Jesus, that’s so fucking hot.”

Luke blinked slowly, stupidly, letting out a soft moan at the figure before him, dotted in sweat and perfectly silhouetted in the darkened room. Michael was perfect and beautiful and Luke wanted to come.

“Lemme ride you,” he breathed out, gasping against the feel of Michael inside him.

“Yeah?” Michael asked, a cocky smirk on his face that Luke decided he loved. “Wanna fuck yourself on me?”

Luke groaned, his eyes falling shut again. “M’so close,” he mumbled out. “Seriously, Mikey, just want more of you.”

“I want you just like this,” Michael breathed, leaning down to kiss him slowly. “Want you taking it.”

Luke wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck and let every sinful whimper spill from his lips, noticing that when he did, Michael thrust harder, thrust deeper.

“You’re so good,” Michael cooed softly. “So good at laying there and taking everything I’m giving to you.”

Luke groaned, arching his back so he could press his needy erection against Michael’s soft stomach, rutting up against him for friction, and rocking his hips back against every movement Michael made.

“I love you, Lukey,” Michael breathed, sweaty and tired and speaking the words against Luke’s cheek. “Love you so much.”

Luke crushed his eyes shut, letting out a soft gasp as he arched a little harder, pushed back a little rougher, and the pressure to his prostate was enough, the blunt head of Michael’s erection punching the orgasm out of him quickly and without warning, warmth coating their stomachs.

“ _Shit_ ,” Michael groaned, his hips stuttering. “God, baby. That was so hot.”

Luke whimpered at the pet name, his brain short circuiting as Michael’s thrusts eased up, fucking him gently through his orgasm until Luke recovered momentarily, kissing him softly.

“I wanna come,” Michael breathed, rocking his hips again.

“Yeah,” Luke whispered, lifting his legs to wrap loosely around Michael’s waist. “You gonna come for me?”

Michael whimpered, and his hips rocked _hard_ , pushing Luke up the bed and pulling a string of groans out of his mouth.

It was rough and desperate and Luke felt _wanted_ , Michael’s mouth pressed to his throat, letting out soft whines as he moved harder, faster, fingernails digging into Luke’s hips until he was coming, filling the condom with a sharp grunt, slumping against Luke the moment it became too much.

Luke’s eyes drooped shut, his legs falling away from Michael’s hips, his hands cradling the older man on top of him. He could sleep, and knew that if he was given another ten minutes he’d be unconscious, because it had been a crazy few days, and there was something safe about being underneath Michael that made him feel like he was home.

Michael seemed to be asleep, or at least on the edge of, and Luke could remember how he’d felt that morning, waking up in the same bed, but being confused and scared.

Now, all he felt was elation.

“I didn’t wish you happy birthday on Twitter,” he whispered.

Michael jumped a little, lifting his head from where it had been tucked into Luke’s neck. “What?”

“I wanna explain,” Luke mumbled. “Why I didn’t wish you happy birthday.”

Michael smiled, reaching up to push some sweaty hair back off of Luke’s forehead. “Do you know how many times you said it yesterday?”

Luke shrugged.

“Forty-two times,” Michael informed him.

Luke raised his brows. “Really?”

Michael snorted. “No. I didn’t actually _count_ them, but it felt like forty-two. Do you really think I give a shit whether you put a stupid tweet out there for me? You gave me an _orgasm_ , which is better than a hundred and forty characters of shit on a computer screen.”

“Really?”

Michael eased himself up with a groan, kissing Luke to ease his discomfort as he pulled out, flopping over onto his back. His fingers were messy with the condom, spilling it just a little before he tied it off, letting it drop onto the floor. “C’mere.”

Luke curled in against his side immediately, nuzzling his nose against Michael’s neck.

“You are incredible,” the older man breathed. “And the best part is that you don’t even know it.”

Luke smiled, tracing his index finger around Michael’s nipple slowly. “Really?”

“Shit _yes_ ,” Michael insisted, his arm wrapping around Luke’s shoulders. “And you walk around like you have no idea what it is about you that everyone loves. You have awkward feet and you blush and smile and you’re so fucking _you_ , that I just…I _love_ you, Luke.”

Luke closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him slowly. He felt a weird mix of emotions; panic, warmth, desire, adoration, fear. It was everything his life with Michael was like, and with a stupidly late realization, he knew it was _love_.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Not because you love me or you say nice things, but because I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The moment was ruined suddenly, and Luke jerked away from Michael as someone pounded their fist against the closed bedroom door.

“Are you two done?”

Luke’s face went red at the sound of Calum’s voice, and he pressed closer to Michael’s side.

“We’re done!” Michael shouted back.

To Luke’s horror, the door was suddenly opened, and he was scrambling to pull the sheets up and over their naked bodies, while Michael didn’t lift a finger.

“We need to talk,” Calum said seriously, strolling into the room with Ashton hot on his heels.

“Oh God, they’re naked,” Ashton muttered.

Luke was mortified, sitting up and dragging the sheet up to his chin, rolling his eyes at Michael’s unattempts to actually cover himself. Instead of preserving his modesty, he _stretched,_ arching his back and lazily sat up slowly, but took far too long to share the section of sheet Luke had clutched in his hands.

“Okay,” Calum said, a frown on his face. “If you two are going to fuck on the regular, we need ground rules.”

The moment was broken as Ashton suddenly yelped, jumping away from the foot of the bed and smacked solidly into the wall, letting out an inhuman kind of shout.

“WHO THE FUCK LEAVES A USED CONDOM ON THE FLOOR?”

The other three occupants of the room burst into uncontrollable, high pitched laughter as Ashton hopped around, trying his best to flick the sticky condom off his big toe.

Luke took a quick second, as Ashton gagged and Calum tried to help him using a coat hanger, to look over at Michael. The other man was already staring at him, a fond smile on his face before leaning over to kiss Luke gently.

“Happy birthday, Mikey.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Luke not tweeting about Michael's birthday! And party inspired by how bent out of shape people are getting about it haha. 
> 
> Plus, Muke is a pairing I haven't tried before, so I hope I do it well! Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> xoxo


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